


loved and loved and lost you

by ensorcel



Category: Military Wives (2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Casual Sex, Companion Piece, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ensorcel/pseuds/ensorcel
Summary: Lisa's the one the women go to. For comfort, in the night. Kate becomes one of these women.A companion piece toatlantisairlock's"shadows under streetlights".
Relationships: Kate Barkley/Lisa Lawson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	loved and loved and lost you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/gifts).
  * Inspired by [shadows under streetlights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27400345) by [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock). 



> this is all your fault, atlantisairlock ;)

She still loved Red. Get that clear. She  _ loves _ Red. He still loved her.  _ Loves _ her. They had a loving family, with Frankie and a nice house on base with a backyard that Lisa told herself that she always dreamt of.

She wasn’t sure when that changed, or if anything had really changed at all. But on Red’s second tour, Lisa was whispering in Cathy’s ear with a hand in her pants and her perfume in the air and she considered it a  _ job _ , almost, a way to help others the way she always was with her family.

Cathy was the first. She was blonde with bright brown eyes and three children and married for five years and very much in love with her husband. They were both at one of those meetings for the wives that Lisa was just starting to go to—out of boredom or the lack of Red or the too much Frankie in the house, she wasn’t sure—but the next thing she knew was that Cathy’s hair was lovely in the sunlight and she gave Lisa a look and she just knew. 

It’d been years since she’d been with a woman—not since college, but it came back with little practice, almost like riding a bike, and Cathy was moaning in her ear in the bathroom stall and Lisa had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. 

“Let me,” Cathy whispered after her breaths climbed, climbed, and climbed, kissing Lisa hard, unbuttoning her jeans and Lisa let her. She was so wet, it felt so filthy, so awful, but Cathy was a surprisingly quick learner and Lisa wasn’t with Red or even thinking of him when her breaths became pitchier and she leaned her head against the door. 

They exchanged no words while they rearranged their clothes and washed their hands, but Lisa gave Cathy a small smile and Cathy gave her a tight one back and Lisa was with her again, and again, and again, and she told herself that she wasn’t in love, that it was still Red, that it was always Red, but when Cathy’s husband was discharged half a year down the line, her heart broke a little. 

Red came home and she said nothing of it. She shared his life and they had a daughter and she was still in his bed, but sometimes, just sometimes, she let herself think of Cathy during the night.

The next was Janet with red hair and new to the garrison with a crooked smile and a bright eye. She had no kids and a husband she loved. 

“You ever been with a woman?” Janet asked, nudging Lisa with her elbow. She jumped a little. Huh. Didn’t seem like the type, but then again, she guessed that she didn’t seem like the type. 

“Mhm.” 

Lisa ran a hand down Janet’s arm, eventually grabbing her hand. “No kids, right?” 

Janet nodded silently. Lisa whispered in her ear and they were in her car as she kissed Janet hard right as they got to her driveway. 

They were barely through the door before Lisa had a hand down Janet’s pants, warm, wet, and Janet was shaking against the wall. 

She never saw Janet again after. 

Red came home again and Frankie was ecstatic and so was Lisa, though she had to tell herself that a little, just a little, and tried not to think of Cathy when Red fucked her when he got home. 

She didn’t say anything and she didn’t think he knew. (Not yet.) 

Eventually, she picked up some work at the local convenience store when Frankie got older. Spent her days working, drinking, meeting with the wives, sleeping with some of them, and raising Frankie. 

It was a good life. Red would come home and they would kiss and Frankie would beam more than she ever did each time and yes, it was a good life. 

She gained a bit of a reputation after Katharine, who was bubbly and sad at the same time with two kids and married unhappily. She heard the whispers as well as anyone else did, and the next time Red went onto tour, she was almost excited. 

Fiona was Frankie’s best friend’s mother and she was kind with soft blue eyes and sandy blonde hair and somewhat loved her husband and loved getting drunk with Lisa on the weekends. 

The bar was loud and the lights were bright and they were dancing to “Heaven is A Place on Earth” and she was so close to Lisa, almost touching but not yet, and her dress hugged her figure just right and they were so close—

Lisa was kissing her, kissing Fiona hard, and she was kissing her back until they were out of breath and the song had changed to God knows what and her hand was tangled in Fiona’s hair.

“There’s a hotel not far from here,” Lisa whispered, holding onto Fiona tight. Her eyes were cool in the dark. 

Fiona’s reply was just a kiss and they were stumbling across the street and booking a room and Lisa felt a rush she hadn’t since college when she’d snuck into her girlfriend’s dorm. They both stank of alcohol but Fiona’s perfume almost overcame it and all Lisa could think of was kissing her, making her come, and kissing her again and again and again. 

She fumbled with the hotel card key as she felt Fiona’s stare on her, strong and constant. Lisa was immediately pushed onto the bed as Fiona turned around, gesturing at her back. 

“Unzip me,” she demanded, words sharp. Lisa smiled. 

“Okay.” 

Her hands slowly wandered to her back, strong and firm, and pulled the zipper down, running it over her bra clasp. She undid that too, holding onto Fiona, turning her around, kissing her and quickly following a way down her neck. 

The room filled with their gasps and pants and Lisa didn’t think of Cathy at all, mind filled with Fiona’s mouth and Fiona’s breasts and Fiona’s hands. 

“You’re beautiful,” Lisa whispered as a hand ran down Fiona’s stomach. She kissed her again. “So beautiful.” 

Fiona’s hand fell down again and Lisa’s mind went blank. 

Lisa woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a note on the nightstand.  _ Paid for the room, great time. xx, Fiona.  _

She picked up her clothes from the floor and was glad that she’d hired the babysitter for the whole night for Frankie and tried not to think of Fiona on the drive home. Tried not to think of her lips and her hands and her quiet gasps and how she felt in Lisa’s bed. Or at least the hotel bed. 

Frankie was still asleep when she got home—quickly paid the babysitter—and she ran into the shower, rinsing off the alcohol, the night, and most unfortunately, Fiona. Made a quick breakfast because she was still a mother and she was kind of hungry too and she wasn’t really sure of what else to do. 

Took Frankie to the park because it was a weekend and she was only eight so what homework did she really have and what else were they supposed to do when Red was gone? (She told herself that she still loved him and that he still loved her but she wasn’t sure how much she believed it at this point.) 

Fiona was there, in a new outfit and perfectly curled hair as usual, chatting up with some of the other women there and her daughter, Sarah ran towards Frankie to give her a hug but all Lisa could notice was how the brunette beside Fiona was standing close and with a hand on her arm. 

Lisa boiled.

She fucked Fiona hard that evening, in her car in her driveway while both of their daughters were in the backyard playing. Fiona panted in her ear and Lisa had her coming within seconds. 

“Someone’s jealous,” Fiona sang afterwards, face flushed with Lisa on her lap. Lisa just grinned. 

“Sure am,” she said, climbing out to the car and wiping her hands on her jeans. “Thanks.”

She called for Frankie and drove them home with a bright smile on her lips and thoughts of Fiona’s body in her mind and she fell asleep to her soft voice echoing in her head. 

Fiona was the longest. Ever. 

She could count on one hand how many times she was with Cathy. The other was for the other women. 

Fiona, Fiona, Lisa couldn’t even begin with. 

She lost count but afterwards, she wished she hadn’t. 

Fiona left after her husband came back and she went through a messy divorce because—wait for it, she was sleeping with another woman that was very much not Lisa. 

She wasn’t in the courtroom when it happened but she didn’t need to be. Couldn’t look Fiona or her husband in the eye and she went home with an emptiness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time, not since Red’s first tour.

Tried not to think about Fiona’s bright eyes and warm lips and if she was with the other woman at the time. Tried to not think about the irony of it all and if she believed in karma, well, this would be it. 

Went home to Red and to Frankie and she took Frankie to a different park that day and watched as her daughter showed her new tricks on the monkey bars and tried to enjoy the sunshine. 

Deleted Fiona’s number from her phone and tried not to think about the way that Fiona laughed and the way that she smiled and the way that she felt in Lisa’s hands, and that Lisa hadn’t felt that loved in a long, long time and it was all a lie. 

When Red and Frankie were asleep, she took out some old plates, looked at them carefully, and flung them at the wall, imagining it was Fiona’s face. 

Wanted to punch her. Wanted to  _ hurt _ her. Hurt her like she’d hurt Lisa. 

Once all the plates were broken, she swept them up and went back to bed with her husband, the man that she loved, the man that was the father of her child, the man that was always there for her. 

Red kissed her the next evening and she kissed him back. 

“Been a while,” he whispered in her ear with a grin. Lisa faltered. She looked down. 

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just tired tonight,” she replied, avoiding his eyes, as if he could look through her and just know. “Later.” She kissed him and rolled her, images of Fiona’s hair and smile and wonderful, wonderful laugh running through her mind. 

She wanted to feel bad. She should’ve felt bad. 

She wanted to throw some more plates. 

Red just sighed and turned off the light. 

Fiona’d left the garrison a week ago and Frankie was still missing her friend—though they still went to the same school, so Lisa knew that she wasn’t far—but it would be a long, long time until Fiona left her thoughts. 

She’d thought she’d learnt from Cathy, but she guessed she didn’t. 

By the time Frankie was in middle school, she’d had it pretty down pat. Her reputation definitely helped, but sometimes, it was still fun to tease it up a little, flirt a little, to give a wink, a smile, and then a kiss and then another and then maybe a drive up to the hotel. 

Lisa knew what she was doing and it was better than any job could give her. Almost better than anything Red could give her. (He gave her Frankie though, and she never forgot that.)

Sometimes the women were different. Sometimes they were the same. But the one thing that they all had in common was the stress, the worry, and Lisa knew just how to take the edge off. Sometimes she impressed herself by how quickly she was able to get some of them off. Proud, almost. 

Red still didn’t know. Or at least she was pretty sure he didn’t know. She wondered if she’d ever tell him. It was just business, after all. To help. 

“Let me,” Kay whispered in her ear, reaching for Lisa’s waistband. She gently stopped her, looking her in the eye.

“I’m fine,” she said. This wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last. She’d learnt with Fiona. And Cathy. She kissed Kay before she could say anything else and left before she fell asleep.

She had rules. Lisa never really followed any before, but now, she knew she had to and she knew why. 

“Jealous that your husband gets to fuck you as much as he likes,” Julia panted in her ear, face flushed and body warm against Lisa’s. 

Lisa just laughed. 

Wished that she could tell the truth, that she hadn’t touched Red in over half a year, that the last time they fucked was nearly a month before they deployed. Lisa kissed her. 

“Ready for round two?”

She didn’t think about Red for the rest of the day. 

She was careful. She was always careful now—not always before. Lisa thought that Frankie was starting to notice. This was Red’s fourth tour and she hadn’t slept with anyone for the whole six months. Was with Frankie the whole time, though at her age now, she was much less appreciative of it. 

She still heard bits and pieces about Fiona here and there, from Frankie, from some of the other women, and sometimes, somedays, her heart ached just a little. Enough that she couldn’t lie to herself about it. 

It was the week when Red was just about to come back that she cracked and found herself in Brenda’s bedroom and Brenda panting and Lisa kissing her and seeing Fiona’s face and Fiona’s breasts and Fiona’s hair and had to stop herself from whispering Fiona’s name. 

She left crazed, unsteady, and told herself that she needed to be more rational, less hot-headed, but she also knew that that would never happen. 

When Red came home, told her he was appointed to RSM, she took him to bed that night, riding him long and hard, panting, kissing him, needing to stifle her cry when she came at his mouth. 

He tasted like home and smelled like their future and sounded a lot like the beginning and Lisa didn’t think about Fiona at all. 

He didn’t say anything about it, but she could tell. Just by the look in his eyes, by the way that he held her, that he knew. They didn’t say anything about it in the morning, he didn’t ask, Red made breakfast as he usually did when he was home because Lisa was dismal at best, and Lisa said nothing turn. 

She kissed him before she went to work. 

Kate burst onto the scene in a flurry of nice blazers and an annoyingly sharp voice and a stick up her ass right after Red was deployed and Lisa had to keep herself from strangling her the minute she pulled out that fucking notebook when they were with Crooks and asked her about what the wives did. 

Whatever the fuck we want, she wanted to answer, but decorum kept her mouth a little tighter and she noticed that Kate had very, very similar eyes to Fiona. She tried not to think about it. Told herself that Kate would never want to get drunk with her on the weekend, that she would never take her to a hotel room, that it wasn’t the same. 

Couldn’t stand Kate’s incessant words, the sheer amount she would just talk, to try to get the wives to do something, when they were clearly pretty happy with just coffee morning with some vodka and potluck dinners with a lot of wine. And goddamnit, she was just a little too similar to Fiona for Lisa’s comfort. 

There were few days where she didn’t want to punch Kate in the face. 

(She tried to remember that Kate had lost a son, that there was probably a reason she was like this—probably the lack of proper orgasm—but sometimes, just sometimes, Kate looked a little too closely at Lisa, a little too sharply, and she was blasted back to hard kisses and Fiona’s hands.) 

Kate’s first coffee morning was a disaster and knitting club was even worse, until Lisa picked up the drink and reminded herself that Kate wasn’t there, even though she’d probably be great at knitting and ignored Frankie’s sharp glares and wondered if she knew. 

She wondered how she knew with Red and wondered if it would be the same with Frankie. 

She fell asleep thinking about Fiona’s mouth and wondering if Kate kissed her husband like that. 

The first singing club—she wasn’t calling it a fucking  _ choir _ , for God’s sake, none of them even knew how to properly sing—meeting was a disaster. Lisa was hesitant at first, at Sarah’s suggestion, and Kate’s quick glance indicated the same thing, but it reminded her of her college days and her bands and she thought why the hell not and now, she was clearly seeing why the hell they shouldn’t have. 

Kate clearly tried to look like she knew what she was doing and Lisa couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand her voice, couldn’t stand the way she just tried to lead, couldn’t stand how she was leading them through some piece from 1856—

“If you think singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ with a pole up your arse is what the women need,” she shot, thinking about Fiona, thinking about Brenda, thinking about all the women she’d helped, all the women who relaxed a little more in this hard, hard life that they live in, “then you’re more out of touch than I thought.” 

“Oh and you think you know—”

Kate’s eyes were so like Fiona’s. Lisa saw red. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve actually got a pretty decent pulse on what the women need, thank you,” she spat, remembering the way that Fiona felt in her hand, the way that she would lie on her stomach, the way that she could make her come in seconds. Tried not to think about that with Kate. 

Kate’s jaw tensed and she glared at Lisa in a way that was so, so familiar. 

“If you think a couple fumbles in bed every so often is enough to give them something to focus on without finding themselves at the bottom of a bottle, then I’m not the only fool here.”

She froze, crossed her arms, and stood stiffly. “You may not need the choir, Lisa, but some of them do.” 

Lisa just looked at Kate, tilted her head. No, you do. Could see her pain underneath. Could tell that Kate needed this more than any of them did, because she was willing to bet that her house was empty as all shit. (Lisa never forgot that even if Red wasn’t here, even if Fiona wasn’t here, even if Fiona had been fucking other women, she still had Frankie. Would always have Frankie.)

“Fine. But don’t think I’m going to be taking your orders on how to run it, Kate. This is still my job.”

She was harsh and she was firm and she left as soon as she could. She could’ve imagined Kate yelling at her to start acting more like it, but she also really couldn’t care. 

Went home and dug out her old university notes, her old keyboard, all the music she’d studied and loved and wanted to pursue before Frankie came along and all her plans changed.

She was going to prove Kate the fuck wrong and stop noticing how in the sunlight, her eyes looked the exact goddamn same as Fiona’s. 

Lisa got to practice twenty-two minutes earlier than Kate—she was aiming for twenty-five, but then she forgot her keyboard like a fucking idiot and had to drive back for it—and handed out lyrics, got her own shit set up (yes, she did know that there was a perfectly fine piano right there but she’d played the keyboard back in college and she was liking this idea of it kinda being like it before), and looped “Don’t You Know Me” until it was drummed shut into the women’s minds. 

Kate still hadn’t shown up. Good riddance. 

Lisa was just warming up when she bustled through the door, coat and bag in hand, slightly out of breath and slightly flushed.

Tried to ignore how much she looked like Fiona in bed, Fiona in the car, Fiona in the bathroom stall, Fiona, Fiona, Fiona, and Lisa was very, very tempted for a cigarette. 

Good thing that Kate opened her mouth because the next second, Lisa went back to wanting to strangle her. Or kick her out. Or get her out of the room. Anything would do at that point. 

“God, can’t you do anything right?” Kate spat. Lisa glared at her and tried not to think about how it hurt. Tried not to spit back that she was the one with years of musical experience, that she was the one that studied music through university, that she was the one that could hold a decent note without killing everyone’s ears. 

She furiously packed up her keyboard, not looking at Kate. “I know you think everyone needs to take your orders, but it actually was me that was assigned to lead them, Kate. And I am.”

She needed Kate to know that. That this was her project, her post-Fiona thing, the thing that she picked up to keep herself from thinking, the thing to distract her, but instead Kate was fucking here, with her eyes and sometimes her face. 

She didn’t remember what else she said to Kate, just that she ran out with the keyboard in her hands and a very, very pitting feeling in her stomach about how this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

She was putting together some pieces when she finally checked her phone and found five missed calls from Kate. Tensed, she sat up and sprinted for her car the minute she heard the voicemail.

How could she had been so stupid? This was her daughter for fuck’s sake. She was at Kate’s in less than three minutes. Raced up the path, noticing that the lawn was neatly preened, as she’d expected. 

_ Frankie, Frankie, Frankie.  _

She slept quietly on the couch, completely passed out and Lisa sighed in relief. Thank God. Thank God. 

“You know, we could just let her sleep it off,” Kate suggested, getting up. She was so close that Lisa could smell her perfume. It was light, but she couldn’t quite identify what it was. She was shite with scents anyways. 

“Right,” she replied, raising a hand to her head. “Right, right, God, Kate, thank you so much, I—”

“I called you five times,” Kate said pointedly, crossing her arms. Lisa looked at her sharply. What the hell did that mean?

“Sorry, I was caught up in something.”

“Mhm, something.” 

Now that Frankie was safe, her annoyance with Kate came back full force. “If you have something to say to me, just say it.” 

“Do what you want, Lisa. I just think it’s bad form when you let your daughter get herself into this state because you’re too busy having a one-night-stand. And I wish I could say I was surprised. But they do say that children tend to drink when they see their parents do the same thing,” Kate explained, voice sharp and tone harsh.

Lisa was burning. Her hands were shaking and her jaw clenched. She didn’t think she could hate Kate the way she could right now. And God, did she look beautiful in her indignation. 

“For your information, I didn’t hear your calls because I was on my laptop at home with my headphones on. Listening to videos that would help me with the choir,” she spat, stepping closer to Kate. Her hands were shaking and she was so warm, so hot. “And don’t you dare drag Frankie into this when it’s me you have a problem with. You and your holier-than-thou Prohibition-era Mother Theresa act can shove off. Yeah, the rest of us drink—I drink, but guess what, Kate, at least it helps us to smile and laugh and not act like we’ve got a stick—fuck, no, a complete  _ forest _ up our arseholes, unlike you. Jesus, why can’t you ever just relax?” 

She was breathing heavily when she finished and Lisa was satisfied to see Kate flinch just a little. God, her eyes were fucking exactly like Fiona’s. 

It suddenly hit her that Kate was a very beautiful woman and her husband was also in Afghanistan and the house was basically empty because Frankie slept like a log. She was very aware of how warm she was and how close she was to Kate—

Lisa grabbed Kate’s wrists and pinned them up above her head as she kissed her, hard, like she did with Fiona, like the way Fiona did with her, smiling when Kate moaned, bit her lower lip and held Kate up, beautiful and glorious and absolutely wonderful in the hallway, with her daughter in the room next door. 

“Just relax,” she whispered, staring Kate right in the eye, how they looked the exact goddamn same as Fiona’s. “Relax.” She released one of Kate’s wrists and slowly teased at her waistband, sliding lower and lower. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

And Lisa reached even lower, slipping past into Kate’s underwear, soft and warm and oh so wet, God, had this woman not come in years? Kate spread her legs even more, with Lisa leaning in and her fingers teasing at Kate’s clit, and oh God, she was so wet and so warm. Lisa could tell her own underwear a little, hearing Kate’s small gasps and moans, almost like music to her ears. 

“Are you begging?” Lisa whispered into Kate’s ear. Kate just whimpered, gasping out please, please, please, and all Lisa could think was yes, yes, yes, and how much this was like Fiona, how she’d fucked her in the hallway while Sarah was in bed. “God, you really needed this, didn’t you? Come on, Kate, just let go. Just let yourself feel good.” 

Lisa’s hand rubbed harder, her fingers warm and wet, frantically pushing Kate, as she gasped and gasped, and then shivered desperately in Lisa’s hold. Lisa gently removed her hand, placing Kate steady against the wall, smirking as she licked her fingers clean and winked. 

She avoided Kate’s eyes. “Thanks for taking care of Frankie. Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

She left and went home and made herself climax through her pants. Thought about Fiona, Fiona, Fiona. How she looked like Kate, just a little. 

Thought about Fiona for the next couple of days like it was those nights after her divorce and Lisa had found out that she wasn’t the only one and it was simply a matter of time. The choir was going well and they’d gone out for that hike and found their sound and Lisa was pretty happy aside from that whole Fiona thing—of which she really need to get over, like stat—and glad that Kate accepted her suggestion for a performance. 

“Do you want to come over and discuss it?” Kate asked, and Lisa missed her gaze, missed her eyes, and missed her worry. (Maybe it was on purpose.) 

“Sure, that’s a good idea,” she replied, wondering what she could make for dinner that night without Frankie hating it. Noodles, maybe?

Kate welcomed her into the house and Lisa quickly glanced at the hallway where she’d fucked her. She grinned at the thought. Ah, who’d thought, that Lisa would be the one to make Kate unravel? 

“Your house is so warm, it’s amazing,” Lisa commented, sitting down, looking up at Kate. “So, what were you thinking about for a venue?”

Kate looked at her dumbfounded. Lisa frowned. 

“We need to talk about what happened on Friday,” Kate said firmly, crossing her arms. Lisa’s brows furrowed more. 

“What, with Frankie? It won’t happen again, if only because I’ve cut her allowance for two weeks,” Lisa replied offhandedly. Kate glared at her. Jesus, what now? 

“No, not about Frankie, but…”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . 

“Kate, it was just stress relief. You looked like you needed it. You don’t need to make it a bigger deal than it is,” Lisa calmly, sitting back, relaxing. 

Kate’s jaw dropped. “I’m married!”

_ Aren’t we all? _

“We’re all married. Our husbands—and wives—are halfway around the world fighting a war that isn’t our own, usually against a bunch of people who don’t want to be fighting it any more than we do. Away for months on end more often than not. We all have needs. You have needs. It was just one night. And it won’t happen again if you don’t want it to. Okay?” 

Lisa was calm. Collected, cool. It was simply what she did. She gave Kate a small smile and to her shock, Kate gave it back. 

“I do want it to.”

Now it was Lisa’s turn to be surprised. “Oh?” She placed a hand on Kate’s knee, slowly inching higher. Kate was so warm. Lisa wondered if she was just as wet as last time. Well. Only one way to find out.

“Yes,” Kate gasped as Lisa flipped her over, pushing her down onto the couch, slowly kissing down her neck. 

“Yes,” she repeated. Yes indeed. 

Charlie looked at her for a little too long at the counter when she was at work and Lisa told her when she was off and the next thing she knew she was making out with the young brunette in the car with eyes that were definitely nothing like Fiona’s and Kate’s and she didn’t feel anything like either of them and she’d been with other women before and Lisa could tell. 

Lisa didn’t even get her last name but she also found that she didn’t really care. She went to Kate’s that night and kissed her hard in front of the television where they were working on choir music and an episode of The Simpsons that was airing was playing. Lisa turned it off. 

Kate was warm where she was not and Kate was soft where she was not and Kate was there, when she was not and all Lisa could think about was Charlie from earlier and how it felt a little, just a little, like cheating. 

The next day they were invited to the Albert Hall and all Lisa could feel was the stress and just how much Kate looked like Fiona when she smiled and when she looked happy—

She needed a smoke. Ran outside and whipped out a pack and a lighter. She took a drag and sighed, breathing it in. A calm ran through her. She got through a whole cigarette and was starting her second the minute Kate came around back and Lisa thought about all those times she shared a smoke with Fiona. Wondered if Kate smoked. 

“I didn’t know you were a smoker,” Kate commented, coming close enough that Lisa could catch a whiff of her perfume. It’d changed. 

“Occasionally. Don’t do it so often any more. Only when I’m really stressed. Don’t want to be more of a shitty influence on Frankie than I already am.” She gave a small laugh, flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette. “Want one?” 

“I don’t smoke. Never have. Never understood how anybody could, actually. It always smells awful; I can’t imagine how it tastes,” Kate said, pausing, tilting her head. “What are you stressed about?”

_ You. Fiona. Charlie. All the women I’ve loved and could never have. _

She lied. 

“You sure you don’t want one?” She flicked her lighter, avoiding Kate’s eyes by watching the flames. 

Kate almost laughed. “I don’t really think I’m cut out for smoking a whole cigarette when I’ve never smoked a single one in the past few decades of my life.”

Lisa grinned and stepped in front of Kate, holding the cigarette between them. “You don’t need to smoke a whole stick to find out how it feels.” Her hand reached at Kate’s collar, stiff, formal, just like the woman, and pulled her closer. The smoke was in their faces. Taking a long drag, she opened her mouth against Kate’s, the smoke curling into her mouth. She didn’t look at Kate’s eyes. 

“Now inhale,” she instructed quietly, watching the smoke. She flicked the ash off. “And breath out. Can you feel it?” 

Kate didn’t say anything, but her breath drew short and Lisa smirked widely, letting her lips brush Kate’s. “Did that turn you on?” 

Her hands snuck their way into Kate’s underwear faster than expected and before she knew it, Kate was coming against the shed and Lisa was hot and Lisa wanted more and Lisa wanted her and there was so much that Lisa wanted that she simply couldn’t get. 

Lisa fucked Beatrice in the library in the non-fiction section where no one went that the books were dusty with age. She was quiet, unlike Kate, and been with women before, unlike Kate, and had brown eyes, unlike Kate, and gave Lisa a small smile and told her that this was a one time thing, unlike Kate. 

“Come home with me,” Kate whispered harshly in her ear and Lisa grinned and Kate was kissing her, kissing her hard in the hallway of Kate’s house, kissing her harder than Kate had ever before. “Please, please,” Kate gasped, basically dragging Lisa into the bedroom. 

Lisa obeyed, finding Kate wet and warm and so, so beautiful as she came once and then demanded more. She couldn’t see Kate’s eyes like this. She kinda wished she could. 

“Jesus, you’re stressed today,” Lisa quipped, after Kate came again. “Kate, relax. What’s going on? Is it tomorrow’s performance?”

Kate’s eyes dropped down to her chest. Lisa almost grinned. 

“Everything’s fine,” Kate said. Her voice wavered. “I’m fine, I’m fine, please,  _ please _ , touch me. Keep touching me. Please?”

Lisa wasn’t convinced but she didn’t push. Kate was beautiful. “Okay.”

Kate came once again that night and when Lisa snuck back into the house well past two in the morning, she fell asleep with images of Kate in her head. 

The market performance was shit. Absolute shit. But Lisa still believed in the choir, still believed in the women, still believed in Kate. She did her best to raise their spirits, giving a small speech as rousingly as she could, looking at Kate the whole time, and then did what she did much better after—take them all out for a drink and some even shittier karaoke. 

The bar was loud and Kate was near and the lights were bright and she was reminded of the weekends that she and Fiona would spend getting wasted and then fuck in the hotel right across the street. 

She suggested “Tainted Love” just for fun until she noticed that Kate was no longer there and something in her heart dropped, like an anvil had crashed, and she found Kate on a bench in the cold air, talking about Jamie, about her son and Lisa was hit with how much she wanted to kiss her and tell her that everything would be okay. 

Instead, she said, ““Do you want to come back to mine? Frankie’s at a friend’s for the night, and, well. Yeah.”

Good fucking job, Lisa. 

“Like what?” 

Lisa winked. Tried not to think about how she wanted to kiss Kate in the street for everyone to see, something she wasn’t able to do with Fiona. Something she wasn’t able to do with Kate. 

“You’ll see when you get back.”

Lisa thought about the strap-on that was in her drawer, the one that Fiona had left behind, the one that she’d never thought she’d use again, but here she was as she unbuttoned Kate’s shirt and kissed down her neck, making her way to Kate’s breasts. The bra unclasped and Kate moaned into her mouth. Kissed at Kate’s breasts, soft and beautiful. She wanted to tell Kate that she was beautiful, that she would give her anything in the world, that all Kate had to do was ask. 

She thrust into Kate, slow, steady, holding onto her tight. “Does Richard fuck you like I do? Does he make you feel like this?”

Kate laughed and Lisa almost tensed up. “Wow. Is that how you dirty-talk all the other wives?”

_ No. No. It’s just you. It’s always been you. It’s just you, Kate. Just you.  _

Lisa reached between them and gently brushed over Kate’s clit, listening to her gasp and moan, listening for the telltale small gasp right before she came. She kissed Kate’s moan quiet, holding onto her tight and wished that she could have the things she wanted. Wished she could have Kate the way she wanted. 

Laughed at the irony of it all into Kate’s chest. “Feeling better?” 

“I’m fine,” Kate said, but she didn’t sound sure. Lisa raised an eyebrow, stroking her back. They were both so warm. She’d never felt this warm before. 

Kate kissed her again, hard, like she did that night when she demanded Lisa of all the things she could give but not the one she really wanted to give. “I don’t want to talk about it now.” 

They could do that. Lisa could do that. 

“Mm, that’s fine,” she murmured and picked Kate up bridal style, still warm, still there. Kate, Kate, Kate. 

Things were fine until they weren’t. Liam was killed and Richard was injured and it hit Lisa that this meant that Richard was coming home and Kate’s house wouldn’t be so empty and somewhere in between all of this, she’d forgotten that they were married women and they had husbands and there was no universe where Lisa could love Kate and Kate could love her back. 

She called Kate to let her know that they were pulling out of the Festival of Remembrance and Kate almost lost it at her. 

There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Kate. 

“Do you want me to come over tonight?”

_ Please say yes. Please say yes. Please. _

“What?” Kate sounded shocked. “Lisa, Richard’s home. In the hospital, right here. My husband is back here.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, calm. “Do you want me to come over?”

Kate’s quiet yes almost wasn’t picked up by the phone. 

Lisa held the choir together when Kate was gone. Helping with Richard and helping with Sarah and giving herself away to everyone but Lisa. She made sure that the service at Liam’s funeral would be their best, the best for Sarah, the best for the wives. 

She missed Kate. Didn’t see her for over a week. Missed Kate and her warm body in her bed and Kate with her bright blue eyes and her hands. Missed Kate. Thought about Red and how he was still away and how their home was still her and Frankie and sometimes Kate. 

Thought about the women that she’d stopped sleeping with, thought about the women that she no longer helped. The women that weren’t Kate. 

She grabbed the phone sooner than she’d expected. “Do you want to come over? Just as a friend.” Her voice wavered a little, she thought. “I just… it’s been the shittiest day.”

_ Please say yes.  _

“It has. What were you thinking?” Oh Kate. 

“I don’t know. Not work, definitely. Maybe a movie. I just don’t feel like being alone.” 

I miss you, she wanted to say. I miss you, she begged to say. _ I miss you, I want you.  _

Lisa put on Rocky and they sat back, curled onto the couch underneath blankets and Kate was so warm and she was there and Lisa felt a little like crying. 

Then, Kate’s hand fell onto hers and she pulled her closer, kissing her gently and Lisa smiled against her lips, warm, warm, just like Kate, always like Kate. “I thought you were here as just a friend today.”

_ I want you.  _

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

_ Change it. I want you.  _

“Come here,” she whispered, pulling Kate impossibly close, closer than ever, and kissed her sweetly, kissed a little differently than she had before, and kissed her unlike she ever had with Fiona. O

Lisa didn’t call Kate for a week. Richard was home and she couldn’t fuck that up. Couldn’t ruin that for Kate. Couldn’t take, even if she wanted to. Even if she begged to.

She threw herself further into the choir, lighting up as much as she could at Annie’s suggestion to write their own song and thought about all the things she wanted to say to Kate, all the things she never said to Fiona, all the things she should’ve said to Red. 

Kate came in with a flurry of anger and pent up frustration that Lisa could just see through her and dissed on the original song idea and even though yes, Lisa was a little hurt, but she could see Kate’s stress, could see Kate’s pain, and wondered if she could do anything about it. 

_ Let me take it for you.  _

“Why were you such a twat over the song? That’s not you, Kate, I know you didn’t think it was a bad idea.” She paused, grabbing her hand. “Is it Richard? Do you want to talk about it?”

Kate just kissed her, warm like always. Lisa kissed her back but sighed. “Kate, come on. If you need to talk about it—you can’t keep things bottled up.” 

_ Let me take it for you. Let me carry your burden. Let me— _

“I thought you had a pulse on what the women needed,” Kate retorted. “This is what I need, okay?”

Lisa almost stepped back in shock. Let me—

She fucked Kate in the bathroom stall in the welfare centre, like she did with Cathy all those years ago when she still loved Red. Still loves Red. 

Kate was always over now. Every evening, everyday, so often that Frankie even made a quip about her moving in. Lisa didn’t ask, she never asked, but every night she would bring Kate to climax in her bed and then show her on her way with papers of the song scattered throughout the living room and gave her a small kiss before she left.

Lisa couldn’t get what she wanted, so she’d take what she could get. 

Thought about Red and wondered what he would think. Wondered if he’d approve. (He wouldn’t.)

One night, Kate grabbed her hand, reached at her waistband and Lisa wanted to laugh. 

“Let me make you come,” she said, insistent. This time, Lisa really did laugh. Brushed her lips against Kate’s. 

“It’s fine. That’s not how it works,” she replied. It wasn’t. It couldn’t happen. Lisa couldn’t have Kate. Simply couldn’t. Just how it worked. 

“So you really go around, fucking all the wives, and they never repay the favour?”

_ I’m not with anyone but you. It’s always been you.  _

She looked at Kate sharply, sadly.  _ I want you. Always have.  _

“It’s not a favour, Kate. I thought that was always pretty clear. It’s… an agreement. An arrangement. It’s business.” 

The words were sour on her tongue. 

“Business, huh? Should I just leave the money on your dresser then?”

Lisa flared up. Kate was the one that was here, wasn’t she? Kate was the one that she couldn’t have and Kate was the one that she didn’t know and Kate—

“What the fuck, Kate,” Lisa snapped back. “I didn’t just give you an excellent orgasm for you to start getting pissy with me for not opening my legs for you, all right? Could you not fucking ruin the night? It’s late, just go home; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her words were harsh. Harsher than expected. 

_ Please don’t go. Please stay. _

She’d completely forgotten she’d even added Jamie’s words last minute until Kate was yelling at her, until Kate was all in her face, until Kate was so mad that Lisa felt her heart shatter— _ this was for you, this was my gift, this my love— _

“I don’t know why I ever believed you could be professional,” Kate snarled. “Or be a good leader, or even a good person, when all you are is a crude, selfish, disloyal, untalented  _ slut _ !”

The word hung in the air. Lisa stepped back, shocked. Her heart was in her ears. 

_ It was always you. It was always you, Kate.  _

The words tumbled out, harsh, defensive, cold. Kate was so warm and Lisa’d lost it. 

Sarah, Annie, and Maz were still watching them. Lisa didn’t care. 

“You gave me all that bullshit about the women needing the choir, but really, Kate, you needed it. They needed this, they needed someone in their beds for just one night, and I’m sorry that makes you feel inferior.” Her eyes were burning and her hands were shaking. 

_ This was for you. Always for you.  _

“They needed me. You needed me, Kate. Why can’t you just fucking admit that? Just admit that you wanted me, you cold-hearted, uptight, hypocritical bitch!”

“How about you? Why can’t you admit—”

Lisa was crying. She closed her eyes for a second. 

“Fine!” she screamed. Her voice was loud and clear in the cold air. It echoed off the bus. “I needed you, Kate! I wanted you, I always did, I fucked up, but at least I can be honest, unlike you!”

_ I’ve always wanted you. Always needed you.  _

Kate didn’t say anything and Lisa knew. Knew already. Couldn’t have anything she wanted. 

“Fuck this,” she said. Her throat was dry. God. She wiped at her eyes and ran down the street, grabbing her dress and her bag, running as fast as she could to leave Kate Barkley and all her bullshit behind. 

“What do you mean you always wanted me?”

Lisa didn’t stop. Didn’t want to see Kate’s face. 

“Oh fuck off, Kate, just get out of my way,” she snapped, almost shoving Kate. She avoided her eyes. 

“Lisa, please, did you mean it?”

_ Did I fucking mean it? Did I mean it? It’s always been you.  _

Her words were sharp and harsh and loud as they were before, by the bus, when everyone was watching and she was crying again and she wasn’t looking at Kate again and this was where she fucking lost everything because clearly, she couldn’t get anything she wanted. Tumbled out that it was always fucking Kate, that she hadn’t slept with anyone else in a goddamn month,  _ that it was always you.  _

“Come back,” Kate said, firm and full of conviction. 

We need you, I need you, the words fell from Kate’s lips. Lisa couldn’t breath. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Kate,” she whispered.  _ Please, please, please stay.  _

“I’m not. I need you,” Kate replied. “I should have admitted it from the start. I should have—I needed you. I wanted you, I want—I love you.”

_ I love you, I love you, I love you.  _

A laugh bubbled up. “You’re a fucking idiot, robbing a bank my arse,” she muttered, holding onto Kate tight and throwing her the dress. 

Lisa pulled her in for a short kiss, for one that they’d already shared, for one that was always the same but somehow very different, one in a world that Kate loved her. 

“Promise me. Promise me it’s not just for a night. It’s not just business. You love me.” 

She thought about Red in Afghanistan and Frankie on the bus and Richard at Kate’s house and the rest of their lives ahead of them. Never thought her fuck-ups would lead to this, that was for sure. 

_ It was always you. Always fucking you.  _

Held Kate close and grabbed her luggage.

“Yes,” Kate said, clear. “The answer will always be yes.” 

They ran back to the bus, hands together, and a long, long road ahead of them. 

**FIN.**

> _ I loved and I loved and I lost you _
> 
> _ I loved and I loved and I lost you _
> 
> _ I loved and I loved and I lost you _
> 
> _ And it hurts like hell _
> 
> _ Yeah it hurts like hell _
> 
> —Fleurie, “Hurts Like Hell”

**Author's Note:**

> well. sin and pain here. blame this all on atlantisairlock because she wrote the original and let me know what you thought ;)


End file.
